


force of law

by TheSpaceCoyote



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [22]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Based on the leaked script, Chancellor Hux, Hurt Armitage Hux, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mob Violence, Near Death Experiences, Rescue, Riots, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: A violent riot at the execution of a local Resistance hero puts Chancellor Hux in extreme danger.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1257560
Comments: 11
Kudos: 210
Collections: Kylux Positivity Week 2020





	force of law

**Author's Note:**

> For the Kylux Positivity Week Hurt/Comfort prompt _and_ a revisiting of my old Bad Things Happen Bingo series! Going with "Angry Mob" because wow, that seemed perfect for a controversial man like Chancellor Hux.

One thing Kylo had learned upon becoming Supreme Leader was the benefit of delegating responsibility. 

Back when he and Hux had both languished under Snoke’s command, he’d viewed the other man as little more than an impediment, a trifling technocrat who bore no lack of complementary disdain towards Kylo and everything that he stood for. But things had changed in the five years since Kylo had wrested control away from his former master. He’d grown older, more discerning. Some would say more _mad_ , but those who would dare to utter such slander were either hiding their faces in the shadows cast by the First Order’s growing might, or dead by his hand. 

Hux had protested at the change in title at first, perhaps unaware of the fact that Kylo had _also_ considered just killing him outright after he’d seized power. But in retrospect, Kylo felt grateful he hadn’t done that, and had instead installed Hux to the office of chancellor within the new regime, allowing the man to express his considerable intelligence and wiles in the political theater. Hux had flourished there, despite his grumbling. And while Kylo still kept him on a leash, he'd come to trust Hux enough to allow the chancellor autonomy to make his own decisions. 

For example, Kylo had long deferred to Hux on the wisdom and efficacy of public executions, allowing them to continue as long as his chancellor still deemed it necessary, even if he didn’t quite understand the theatrics of the whole affair. “It strikes fear in the heart of those who would rise against us, Supreme Leader,” Hux had said the one time Kylo had brought up the benefits of the executions with him. “You cannot win wars with only physical might. You have to target your enemies' souls, their spirits, attack them as mercilessly as you would their fleets and troops.”

And so Kylo had allowed it—allowed Hux to parade about in his full formal attire, brandish the lightsaber Kylo had gifted him after his promotion, and cast his judgment upon the insurgent rabble infesting Coruscant. 

Today was meant to witness yet another disposal of rebellious garbage. A folk hero of sorts, amongst the unwashed citizenry. Hux had appeared even more delighted than usual at the prospect of killing them. Kylo had glimpsed the acquisition paperwork—Hux had procured a brand new model of his recently most favored execution method, the plasma guillotine, and even wrote an entirely new speech for the occasion. Kylo had occupied himself elsewhere, meeting with his military commanders, content to allow Hux to oversee the event. 

But it appeared things had not gone to the chancellor’s plans. 

When Kylo arrived at the amphitheater where Hux conducted the executions, answering an emergency summons from one of the guards, he found nothing but chaos. 

The voluminous tapestries that had hung from the walls now lay on the floor, torn and trampled and stained with blood. The pristine durasteel floors lay scuffed and scarred by rogue blaster bolts, the air vibrating with screams of rage and agony. Corpses of stormtrooper guards and Coruscant citizens alike lay draped over the stone seats that were otherwise vacated, all able bodies in attendance swarming in the fray that had consumed the center stage. 

Kylo scanned the melee, unable to spot Hux anywhere. But as he stood, troopers flooding past him on both flanks in an effort to disperse the violent mob, he could sense a small, wavering presence—calling out to him, wracked with pain and fear. 

Anger surged into Kylo’s throat, brought prickles of dampness to his eyes. 

“To your knees, Resistance-sympathizing scum!” Kylo channeled his distress into a commanding roar, brandishing his saber with a violent crackle in hopes it would cow some of the maddened mob the troopers were struggling to quell. But they gave him no regard, too enraged to even properly fear the Supreme Leader himself. 

Kylo clenched his jaw. So be it. 

Screams echoed through the amphitheater as Kylo indiscriminately flung rioters out of his path, slamming them into the stone seats and crumpling their bodies against the ground as he carved his way towards the center stage. Briefly, the troopers hesitated to follow, giving Kylo a wide berth as he crushed throats and snapped limbs and kicked the wounded and dead that lay scattered upon the ground. 

The audience had clambered up on to the stage, knocking over the podium in their rush. Several of them grappled with the red-armored troopers that comprised Hux’s immediate guard, while many more had latched onto the plasma guillotine and were trying to shake it free from its foundations. As Kylo raced towards the center, following his gut and the pull of Hux’s waning presence, they managed to tip it over. 

Kylo leaped onto the stage as the guillotine smashed across the ground, delicate mechanisms sparking and setting a nearby crumpled banner afire. A cheer arose from the unkempt group of rioters, only to die away a moment later as Kylo cut through their ranks, sending showers of blood and split limbs cascading to the ground as he searched with increasing desperation for Hux. 

And while he found both Grand Marshal Mitaka cowering under the fallen podium, and General Phasma, unconscious but alive in her formal armor, it wasn’t until he carved his way to the backstage of the amphitheater that he finally uncovered what had become of his chancellor. 

“ _Hux!”_ Kylo howled as he descended upon a small group of rioters, having spotted a thin, bloodied hand laying amongst their dirty boots. He charged through the crowd, bowling over some and flinging aside others, trampling them into the ground. His saber split their limbs from their torsos and heads from their necks, blood flecking onto his face as he forged towards the center of the crowd, dispersing it with one, final, powerful pulse from the Force that snuffed the lives from the last of the perpetrators. 

But all at once, rage evaporated into fear and sorrow as Kylo looked upon the body of the chancellor lying at his feet. 

Hux’s lavish, scintillating robes were tattered, ripped at the sleeves and shredded at the collar by enraged hands eager to leave their own mark on the body of the man they hated so much. Bruises littered his face, his soft lips parted and split, leaking blood from the corners. His perfectly coiffed hair lay in utter disarray, strands stuck to his face. Those deft hands, usually found gripping a datapad or, lately, curled curiously around one of the many sabers Kylo brought back from the war front as gifts, rested on the floor—broken and crushed as they’d tried to defend against his attackers. 

He looked dead. For a moment, Kylo believed he was. Only when he got down to his knees and carefully touched Hux’s throat, the only place seemingly untouched, did he sense a flutter of Hux’s Force presence, persisting alongside a weak pulse. 

“Supreme Leader,” a hesitant voice spoke up from behind him. Kylo didn’t bother to look as he gathered Hux into his arms, but he knew it was one of the troopers that had accompanied him into the fray. 

“Are things under control?” he asked as he rose, cradling Hux’s fragile body against his chest. The chancellor let out a small noise as he was jostled, injured fingers twitching with the want to curl into the fabric of Kylo’s tunic but being unable to. Breath wheezed weakly past his cracked lips, paper-thin eyelids fluttering with pain. 

“Yes sir. We’ve managed to dispatch or arrest all remaining rioters. Those that have fled will be tracked down.”

“Good.” Kylo turned on heel and brushed past the trooper, all attention focused on getting the Chancellor out of here and into the hands of a trained medic. 

“Sir?” The trooper called after him. “What should we do with the prisoners?”

Kylo didn’t look back.

“Kill them all.”

* * *

It was several hours before Hux awoke in the medbay. Kylo stayed by his side the entire time, unable to hold his hand thanks to the splints holding his shattered fingers in place. When Hux finally twitched into wakefulness, his heart leaped, and he dismissed the nurse that had just finished checking on Hux’s vitals.

“Careful,” Kylo reached out when Hux sat bolt upright, carefully pressing a palm to the chancellor’s bare, heaving chest. “You’re healing. Don’t strain yourself.”

“I... _huh?_ ” Hux blinked, eyes glassy, as if he didn’t fully realize where he was. The nurses had administered a course of intense painkillers that obviously were still clouding the chancellor’s mind. Better than to have him suffering, though. Hux had suffered enough for the day. 

Hux quieted as Kylo eased him back down into the bed, lucidity slowly creeping back to him. The naked confusion in his face slowly resolved into a mask of tight reflection. He stared off into space for a moment. Kylo allowed it, before speaking up in the silence broken only by the beeps of Hux’s vitals. 

“What happened?”

Hux let out a humorless laugh. 

“Surely you’ve heard the full report already.”

“Yes,” Kylo answered. “But I want to hear it from your lips.”

Hux closed his eyes, taking a few seconds to breathe before responding. 

“Everything was proceeding as normal. I never thought they would be so bold as to...they rushed the stage just as I was about to give the command for execution.” Hux’s throat bobbed in a tight, painful-looking swallow. “I tried to escape through the emergency passage backstage while Phasma and the guards held them off. But I wasn’t quick enough—or there were too many of them. It all happened so quickly.” Hux eyes met Kylo’s, the shame in them apparent despite his obvious exhaustion. “Forgive me for allowing such chaos to come to pass, Supreme Leader. It will not happen again.”

“Forgiveness won’t be necessary, Chancellor,” Kylo said quickly. “I’m only grateful that you’re still alive.” 

Hux looked a little surprised, but after a moment a smile flittered across his face. 

“I’m surprised you’re being so lenient, Supreme Leander. I was expecting you to gloat now that the existence of public executions has proven unnecessary and dangerous.”

“Not unnecessary. But just in need of increased security in the future.” Kylo nodded sagely. “Though I think the next time such a popular figurehead falls into our clutches, we take care of him _personally_. Just to ensure there will be no interference from the rabble.”

Hux eyes glimmered with sadistic interest. Despite the bacta patches and discolored bruises that littered his face, it almost made him look like his old self again. 

“I’d like that very much, Supreme Leader.” Hux’s face fell slightly. “Only I will need a new lightsaber. I fear the one you gave to me was lost in the ordeal.”

“Not so.”

Hux lifted his head to see Kylo produce a familiar, gold and silver basket-hilt handle from the folds of his dark robes. His eyes lit up, injured fingers twitching with desire to wrap around the ribbed leather grip and hold firm, resolute.

“You…”

“It was found when the bodies were being cleared out of the amphitheater. Chancellor...I noticed the marks on several of the rioters that were already dead when I arrived,” Kylo says, cradling the saber in his flat palms and stroking it with his thumb. A grin plucked at his lips. “You’re learning well. I can see now it wasn’t a mistake to take you on as my _student_.”

Hux snorted, though with no absence of affection. “You believe so? Well, then perhaps next time I’ll be able to stave off a whole crowd of riff-raff on my own without your assistance.” He looked down at where his injured hands lay in his lap. “ _If_ I’m able to ever wield it again.”

“You will,” Kylo stated, resting the lightsaber on the bedside table, before carefully pulling Hux into a loose embrace. “You’re stronger than anyone realizes, Hux.”

Hux relaxed in Kylo’s arms, head come to rest against his shoulder.

“I’m glad that you finally understand that, Ren.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments! I really missed writing injury fic, so let me know if you guys would like to see more. 
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/).


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